


Strangers in the Night

by DyslexicSquirrel



Series: Stony Bingo 2019 [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Steve Rogers, Dom Tony Stark, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Porn With Plot, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 00:08:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20105899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DyslexicSquirrel/pseuds/DyslexicSquirrel
Summary: As far as his W-2s were concerned, Steve was an escort. He got paid to look nice and hang off someone’s arm at parties, to keep lonely men and women company. If sometimes that company involved sex and a hefty bonus from some of the men? Well, he wasn’t feeling bad about it and the IRS just thought he got tipped well.





	Strangers in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Stony bingo 2019 round 2 fill (square O2)  
Prompt: Kink- anonymous hook up
> 
> I lurv comments and kudos are amazeballs ❤️

Steve swallowed nervously when he walked through the doors into the hotel lobby. This place was a lot fancier than he was used to. It wasn’t the first time the agency had set him up with someone who wanted to remain anonymous, some people really got off on it, on fucking someone who didn’t know their name. Of course, on paper, he never had sex with his clients. That was the fastest way to get the government on your ass. 

As far as his W-2s were concerned, Steve was an escort. He got paid to look nice and hang off someone’s arm at parties, to keep lonely men and women company. If sometimes that company involved sex and a hefty bonus from some of the men? Well, he wasn’t feeling bad about it and the IRS just thought he got tipped well. He had bills to pay. School was expensive and there was only so long he was going to be able to bank off the cute twink aesthetic. Growing up in foster care hadn’t exactly set him up for success. 

So, no, Steve didn’t feel bad about his career and what he was doing to get by, but he was nervous right now. His clients always had money—they couldn’t afford him otherwise, but this place? This was money. He was surprised they had let him walk through the door since he wasn’t dressed for some black tie affair. There hadn’t been a dress code for this job so Steve had worn tight jeans that showed off his ass and a short sleeved button down left open over a tight t-shirt with heeled boots that made him taller, but not too tall. 

The only thing Steve knew about this guy he was meeting was that he wanted anonymity (the agency vetted everyone and they knew who he was, so he never minded that) and that he had specifically requested Steve’s body type, and he wanted someone submissive, which, well, Steve wasn’t really, but he could play one if he needed to. The guy had even asked for safe words and hard and soft limits before hand. Steve had rolled his eyes at that when Natasha told him. The guy was really committing. 

He shook his head and exhaled a deep breath. He told himself to get his shit together. So this guy either has more money than God or wants people to think he does. It didn’t matter. It didn’t change anything. He was getting paid to play a part and he’d do it. 

The woman behind the desk smiled at him when he stepped up to the counter. “Can I help you, sir?” 

His lips twitched at being called ‘sir,’ but he kept a straight face. He already looked young enough without smiling like an idiot. Didn’t need someone calling the cops because they thought he was being sex trafficked. “There should a key waiting for me? Under the name Romanoff.” 

“Room 312, sir.” She handed him a small envelope and directed him to the elevators. He didn’t bother knocking on the door when he got to the third floor, just used the key and let himself in. The man he found in the room had Steve stopping in his tracks, blinking comically like he was seeing things and just needed to clear his vision. 

This guy needed to hire people to have anonymous sex? He needed to pay people at all? Steve was positive that everyone on Grindr would be willing to meet him for a no-names hook up. 

He was older than Steve, maybe early forties but he carried it well, dark hair, dark eyes, facial hair that called attention to the shape of his lips and his cheekbones. He was seated in a chair by the window, one leg crossed over the other, chin resting in the palm of his right hand, elbow braced against the arm of the chair. His expression gave nothing away as he stared at Steve. 

“Uh, hi.” 

“Hello.” His voice was whiskey smooth, cultured. It sent a shiver down Steve’s spine. “Clothes off and lie down on the bed, please.” 

Alright, he didn’t waste any time. Steve shrugged his button down off, laid it down on the bench at the foot of the bed, and sat down to take his boots off. He cocked a brow, looking pointedly at the man’s immaculate suit. “What about you?” 

The man shook his head slowly and Steve shrugged. Maybe he was shy. Or just had control issues, that would explain the Dom thing. Either way, not the strangest thing to ever happen on one of his jobs. Steve finished undressing and crawled carefully to the center of the bed, trying not to jar the plug he was wearing as per his clients instructions too much as he moved, and laid down against the pillows and waited. 

The man unfolded from the chair slowly and stopped by the side of the bed close to one of the nightstands. His hands in his pockets, he looked down at Steve. “You said you were okay with being restrained?” 

Steve shrugged. “Sure.” 

He frowned, looking stern. “Yes or no answers when I ask you a question.”

“Yes, I’m fine with restraints,” he said, barely resisting an eye roll. “I’m also fine with everything else I agreed to before hand.” 

He didn’t look impressed by that. He turned away to shrug out of his jacket and lay it over the arm of the chair, then loosened his cufflinks (people still wore those?) and tucked them into the pocket. When he straightened up, he started rolling the sleeves of his shirt up, eyes giving Steve’s body a once over. He’d already been half hard from the plug and the damn Uber hitting every pothole on the way here, but he felt himself swelling further under the scrutiny and tried not to squirm. His client pulled the drawer to the night stand open, withdrawing a set of wrist cuffs. Black leather, padded on the inside, connected by a silver clip in the middle.

“Hand,” the man said and Steve held one of his arms up while one of the cuffs was fastened around his wrist. The process was repeated with the opposite wrist and Steve’s hands were moved so they laid over his head. “They stay there unless I tell you to move. Do you understand?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” A bottle of lube and a condom packet were pulled from the drawer and placed on top of the side table. Steve’s eyes were drawn to them for some reason. “Hey,” his client said softly, moving Steve’s head up with a single finger under his chin so he was staring into his eyes. “You’re alright.” 

“Of course I am,” Steve replied, frowning. He did this all the time. It was nothing new. This man was just a little overwhelming and he wasn’t used to being so turned on during a job. 

His client drew his hand back slowly, fingertip dragging against the underside of Steve’s chin. He breathed in slowly at the contact, tipping his chin up to chase it, telling himself that it was part of the act. 

“What’s your safeword?” The question was asked while the man removed his tie, popping the top button open, revealing a hint of throat. 

“Charcoal.” He’d been doing a project for his drawing class when he got the email from Nat about the client and his requirements. Been the first thing that came to mind when he saw the dust on the tips of his fingers. 

One corner of the other man’s mouth twitched, but otherwise his expression remained neutral as he nodded. Steve heard two thunks against the carpet, the man’s shoes he assumed, when he put one knee on the bed and moved onto it to straddle Steve’s thighs, feet covered in black dress socks. It was a weird thing to focus on, but Steve kept looking at the parts of the man’s body that were visible or partially uncovered. It was strangely erotic. 

“Close your eyes,” the man told him and Steve didn’t immediately comply. The small half smile he got in return to his suspicious frown made the man that much more attractive. “Just do it,” he told Steve, sounding amused. 

Steve adjusted his shoulders against the mattress and let his eyes fall shut. It seemed to make all the sounds in the room louder than they actually were: the clink of a belt buckle being undone, leather sliding out of belt loops, something hitting the carpet. When the unmistakable sound of a zipper being lowered reached his ears, Steve shifted, breath picking up when he felt the wool of the man’s pants brush against his legs. A hand touched his chest and he jumped. 

“Shh,” the man said softly, stroking Steve’s chest. Steve groaned low in the back of his throat, pressing up into the touch. He was going to die when this man touched his dick if it felt this good having him touch his chest. He had calluses on his fingers, unexpected for someone who was dressed so well, but not unwelcome. The contrast felt nice. 

“Hush.” It wasn’t until he heard that Steve realized he’d been making desperate little noises, rubbing the outside of his thighs against his client’s legs. “You’d think you had been touched before.” 

Steve shook his head helplessly, frustrated with himself. “That’s definitely not it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” the man above him said, shifting so his knees were between Steve’s legs, and when he moved forward, Steve spread his legs without being asked, so the man was cradled between them. The featherlight sensation of fingers sliding down the inside of his left leg had him inhaling sharply. Those fingers went unerringly to the plug nestled snugly between his cheeks and the man hummed like he was pleased to discover it when he was the one who requested Steve come prepped. His cock twitched where it rested against his belly. 

The hand between his legs continued to toy with the end of the plug and Steve started panting even before he heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper and a few seconds later the click of the bottle of lube being opened. The plug was tugged gently, pulling at the rim of his hole and Steve groaned, digging his heels into the bed to push his hips up. When the plug was tugged free, he bit his lip against a moan, hole clenching around nothing after being full for so long. 

Two fingers pushing inside him unexpectedly made him grunt. It didn’t hurt because he was still loose from the plug, but it had been so abrupt. Those fingers thrust in and out of him almost lazily, scissoring, brushing against his prostate once before they were gone. A hand wet with lube gripped his hip and why that made his cock leak, Steve didn’t know. His senses seemed inflamed with his eyes closed. He wanted to look at the face of the man above him, but for all he’d always insisted he didn’t have a submissive bone in his body, Steve didn’t want to disappoint his client. 

“What’s your safe word?” He asked again, and Steve had to swallow and force his brain to work because he could feel the latex covered head of the man’s cock resting at his entrance. 

Steve’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he could get the word out and his client waited, patient. “Charcoal,” he finally breathed.

“Use it if you need to and everything stops.” Steve didn’t have time to reply, and his client didn’t speak after that, he just tightened his grip on Steve’s hip and pushed inside Steve until he bottomed out. 

Steve felt full, stretched around the cock inside him. He gripped the pillow under his hands, head tipping back, and wrapped his legs around the hips between his thighs. But he didn’t stay that way for long. His legs were pushed back into his chest, hands firm against the back of his thighs, and then the man moved, dragging his cock almost all the way out of Steve’s hole before pushing back in. The pace he set was almost brutal and Steve didn’t care. The stimulation to his prostate was just shy of too much and Steve just laid there and took it, precome beading on the head of his cock, slicking his belly, internal muscles clenching. 

When he came, dick untouched, it felt like it was punched out of him. His throat felt raw and he was reduced to a limp moaning mess, come running down his chest. He was overstimulated, but the other man kept moving. It felt so good it almost hurt and when his client’s thrusts stuttered, turning into shallow digs before he came, Steve was a little sad that it was over. 

His client was breathing a little heavier, the only proof they had done anything, and he lowered Steve’s legs gently to the bed. He made an unhappy noise when the man pulled free from his loose hole and heard a chuckle. “Don’t move,” he was told. 

Like Steve could move even if he wanted to. He felt the mattress shift as his client left the bed and concentrated on getting his breathing under control. He could hear movement, but it was far off and unimportant, until his client came back and Steve felt a wet cloth against his chest and belly, wiping away his come. Then between his legs cleaning away the lube. His hands were picked up, the cuffs removed and his wrists rubbed. “They feel okay?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

“Good.” His arms were set down as gently as his legs had been. It was such an odd juxtaposition to how the man fucked that Steve felt a bit dizzy even though he was lying down. A warm hand cupped his cheek and Steve leaned into the touch. “You can open your eyes now.” 

Steve blinked, forgetting that they’d even been closed. Aside from a slight flush to his cheeks there was nothing to signify that this man had just fucked Steve into the mattress. He gave Steve a fleeting smile. “The room is paid for until tomorrow at eleven. You can stay or go, it’s up to you.” 

“Okay,” Steve said around a yawn and blinked owlishly when he felt lips against his forehead. 

“Thank you,” his client said and went to pick up his jacket. He draped it over his arm and for the first time Steve realized he’d put his shoes back on and his tie was slung around his neck. He nodded at Steve and then he was gone, the door clicking quietly shut behind him. Steve was too tired to move, so he crawled under the covers, clicked the lamp off and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

* * *

Something woke Steve up, an annoying insisting sound coming from somewhere nearby. He groaned and dragged open bleary eyes, blinking at the unfamiliar room until he remembered that he’d been with a client the night before. He blew out a breath as the memories came flooding back. His ass was sore when he moved and he laughed, except it was more like a giggle, while he crawled to the end of the bed because he realized the thing that woke him up was his phone ringing. It was tucked into the pocket of his jeans on the bench. He fished it out and saw Nat’s name on the screen. “Hey,” he said climbing back under the covers. 

“Hey, yourself,” Nat said. “You must have had a good night.” 

“Why do you say that?” Steve idly wondered if he would be able to order room service or if that would be rude since it was his client’s credit card on file. Probably rude, he decided, scrunching his nose. He’d pick something up on the way home. 

“Well, the client who wanted to remain anonymous?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Well, his assistant just called to book you to accompany him to a party tomorrow night. Which would involve you knowing his name if you’re not connecting those dots.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yes. Whatever you did? Keep doing it and this guy might end up paying for you to go to grad school.” 

Steve relaxed against the pillows, gazing out into the hotel room. This was an interesting turn of events. Steve had never had any of his anons book him again, let alone decide to throw the anonymity out the window. He wasn’t going to complain about seeing the man again, though. “What’s his name,” he asked Nat. 

“Tony. Tony Stark. Old money. Been a bit of a recluse the last few years. Guess he’s decided to step back out into the public eye with you hanging on his arm. Good job, kid.” 

“Thanks.” Steve hung up and started smiling. Maybe his life was taking a turn for the better. 


End file.
